


Savior Complex

by envy555



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Gen, Headcanon, M/M, Slow Burn, Sweet Pea Deserves More Attention
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-25
Updated: 2019-05-25
Packaged: 2020-03-17 10:52:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18963799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/envy555/pseuds/envy555
Summary: The Southside Serpents have a lot of issues with Riverdale High, but it's hard for Sweet Pea to deny that the school's got some perks.





	Savior Complex

**Author's Note:**

> Set right after the Serpents transfer to Riverdale (way back in season 2). I wrote this back then because I thought Sweet Pea was an interesting character and deserved some further development. Never intended to actually do anything with this fic, but since Sweet Pea was seemingly ditched at the end of season 3 (despite his burst of development in the first half of the season and the fact that he’d lose his shit if he knew his two best friends joined a cult), I think I’m embracing this as an emotional “fix-it” piece. 
> 
> I have a lot of headcanons for Sweet Pea that I want to try writing, including a bunch of stuff related to his name, youth, family, and experiences with the Serpents. On top of that, this also originally stemmed from how silly Riverdale’s portrayal of high school often feels. I thought it would be fun to explore the stupid bits of school that were once genuinely stressful for me, like exams, relationships, and the existential dread that builds before graduation (on top of all of the good old Riverdale drama). 
> 
> Also, since this is supposed to be about Sweet Pea more than anything I chose to use an OC as a venue for exploring some hidden aspects of his character, instead of writing this as a Sweet Pea x Reader fic. Still, please read it however it makes you happy, and keep in mind that this chapter is pretty vanilla but things rarely stay that way on Riverdale. Enjoy!

_Just keep a level head,_ Sweet Pea thought furiously as he used his permanently furrowed brow to part the murky seas of the Riverdale students’ gaze. It was a thought pattern, a mantra even, that Sweet Pea had done his utmost to adopt during the transition between high schools, despite his fluctuating emotions. He repeated it compulsively, and even in his mind it sounded exactly the way FP Jones had spoken it––like a threat made by a caring father-figure. The point was made––a level head was necessary for the integration and survival of the Serpents. Sweet Pea kept his eyes up and his chin down, believing that somewhere in there was the balanced level head. He was making a genuine effort to ignore the negativity of his peers, to maintain composure, and to resist the urge to throw hands at even the slightest hint of North Side condescension.

 _Keep a level head_. It was a good thought, backed by good intentions, but it was a waste of time. No matter what the Serpent King demanded, Sweet Pea was a brash person and proud to be. He liked to fight, he enjoyed chaos, he never backed down, and he thrived on the suffering of Northsiders.

However, he also really liked this school and the list of reasons was growing by the day.

Not only did the toilets flush here, but the lockers actually locked. Sweet Pea couldn’t remember the last time he’d had that kind of security and privacy in his life. At Riverdale High, the teachers actually learned and remembered your name, even if it was something as nonsensical as “Sweet Pea” or “Jughead.” The class size here was conducive to intellectual conversation––it didn’t feel like the students had been shoved into the Thunderdome of education.

Furthermore, although the teens of the North Side were less than civil to the South Side transfers, their antagonistic behavior was nothing in comparison to that of the Ghoulies––Riverdale didn’t have rival gangs because it didn’t (in theory) have gangs at all. No one openly dealt drugs or threw back tubes of jingle-jangle in the hallways either.

Beyond all that, the facilities were amazing. Sweet Pea had marvelled in faux-cranky silence at Riverdale High’s library, which was actually kept organized by the Dewey Decimal Classification system, rather than some shambly semblance of alphabetization. The jackets remained on the books, laminated. There were tables with comfortable chairs, phone charging stations, and tiny lamps to encourage comfortable studying. There was a whole alcove to house a dozen very new desktop computers, free for student use (and that wasn’t even _the_ computer lab). The librarian was not hot, unfortunately, but she did have an actual degree in library science, making her legitimately useful and not just a snobby husher.

The marvels didn’t end with the library. Each classroom had its own character and flair, such that attending class presented new sights and sounds and posters and paintings and window views––completely unlike the copied and pasted, dingy rooms of Southside High. The gym was clean and the floors were waxed and polished monthly. The locker rooms didn’t reek of vomit and weed, and the showers had better water pressure than the one in Sweet Pea’s trailer. The grass of the athletic fields was perfectly mown and fertilized… It really was greener on the other side.

So, Sweet Pea would do his best to keep a level head, at least emotionally. Physically, he kept his head cocked back and his eyes narrowed, gazing over his cheeks and down at his peers. He looked the way he really felt––proud, confident, confrontational. At the very least, he knew that his posture was moderately intimidating. Besides, he didn’t have much choice, since his height made it naturally easy to look down on others. That’d been ordinary for him since he’d hit puberty.

Unfortunately, his ability to intimidate his peers from 8:00 a.m. to 3:30 p.m. had been drastically decreased by his newly acquired and somewhat enforced school polo, turtleneck, and khakis. The turtleneck was especially irritating. It was too hot, too tight, and it made Sweet Pea feel like the hands of Principal Weatherbee were wrapped around his throat, choking out the snake that slithered up the side. Sweet Pea didn’t like covering his tattoo, hiding his loyalty, but he certainly wasn’t as paranoid as Jughead when it came to their Serpent identity. After all, with just a quick tug of the tight cream-colored fabric, Sweet Pea could flash his membership card to anyone who might need a reminder, and that was that.

He made a little wish in his head that that action wouldn’t be necessary anytime soon and headed into the student lounge. Sweet Pea was still just fascinated that the privileged Riverdale High students had a designated room to lounge in. It was simultaneously the stupidest and coolest thing ever. The concept of students encouraged to spend time with each other in a cozy, private space baffled him, but he loved it.

As was typical during the passing period after their first class, Toni and Fangs were hanging out near the vending machine. Sweet Pea joined them and sleepily grunted to convey both his pleasure at seeing them, as well as his supposed distaste for school.

“Hey, Pea. How was your first class today? Start any fights?” Toni teased, tilting a bag of pretzels in his direction. He reached into the bag, having skipped breakfast, and took enough pretzels out in one handful that Toni’s grin turned into a scowl.

He smirked back at her in return. “First class was fine. No fights, but if I had to listen to that damn math teacher half-sing the freaking quadratic formula one more time, who knows.” It was an exaggeration. The singsong presentation of the algebraic information had been annoying, true, but it’d done its job. Sweet Pea had memorized the formula and was currently reciting it in his head almost in sync with his level-headed mantra. “What about you guys?”

“I had history. Dull as hell, man,” Fangs piped in, crossing his arms.

“Bio,” said Toni. “Wasn’t terrible. Learned about homeostasis.” She looked into her pretzel bag and dug out the remaining crumbs, still glaring a bit as Sweet Pea shoved three into his mouth at once. “Almost smacked the hell out of that crazy-ass Blossom girl,” Toni added, tossing the bag into the nearby trash can.

“Ha! Why didn’t you?” Sweet Pea muttered through a mouthful of bland pretzel.

Toni rolled her eyes and sank onto the armrest of a neighboring couch. “Because, Sweet Pea, we’re all supposed to be trying to fit in. Girls here solve their disagreements through manipulation and low-key blackmail, not through physical fights. I figured I’d corner her in English and start ‘fitting in.’” Her smirk returned along with a mischievous glint that brightened her eyes. Toni would have no trouble with manipulation and blackmail.

“Did you guys do the reading for class?” questioned Fangs, his lips twitching as he held in a chuckle at the absurdity of his own question.

“Pfft,” Sweet Pea vocalized, shaking his head. “Why should I care about what some old ass poet has to say?”

Sighing dramatically, Toni grabbed his bicep and attempted to shake him. “Homer is _not_ just some ‘old ass poet’ and you’d probably really like the _Odyssey._ It’s got lots of violence and even some dope snake creatures. Plus, loyalty, heroics, love, revenge...” She trailed off and gave up as Fangs burst out laughing and Sweet Pea’s smirk turned into a full-on grin. “Well, it’s on you when you fail the inevitable tests.”

Though he laughed along with Fangs, Sweet Pea felt a twinge of guilt for disrespecting a classic. Part of him really did want to read the _Odyssey_ , but he hadn’t managed to get ahold of a copy in time for last night’s reading. Luckily, they were only supposed to have read the first quarter for today. He had time to catch up… if he chose to.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. I’ll just go over the Sparknotes before and––” he was cut off by the bell to signify that only five minutes remained of the passing period.

Toni immediately hopped to her feet. “Let’s go. I want to get to English early so I can snag a seat near Cheryl.” She grinned evilly and guided them out of the lounge and into the hall.

When they got to class, Toni ditched her friends and slid into a seat directly next to the red-headed psycho, who scowled and squirmed in her plastic chair but didn’t get up. There was an empty two-seater table at the back of the room and Sweet Pea walked towards it instinctively, assuming Fangs was on his tail. However, the shorter Serpent was caught up in what appeared to be a lively conversation with the sheriff’s son. He caught Sweet Pea’s eye and grinned as the latter sat down by himself. Seemed Fangs had decided to try “fitting in” too, albeit in a different way.

With a tired groan, Sweet Pea tossed a pencil and loose sheet of paper from his bag onto the desk in front of him. Then he slumped forward, leaning on his elbows and staring out the window with an expression that he hoped appeared dejected and blank. He sank into his thoughts and started to zone out until he heard a screech beside him. Someone was pulling out a chair. He spun quickly to stare down his space invader.

The girl standing beside him jumped at his abrupt turn and froze, one hand on the back of the small plastic chair. “Uh, hi. Sorry. Do you mind if I sit here? All the other tables are full.”

Sweet Pea snapped back out of habit, immediately forgetting his desire to be level-headed and locking eyes with this unfortunate Northsider. “Don’t really have much choice then, do I?”

The girl frowned but continued to pull the chair out and took her seat. “Guess not,” she said softly, placing her shoulder bag on the floor beside her and unloading her thick copy of Homer’s epic poem, along with a notebook and a pen. Then she leaned back in her seat, crossed her legs and arms, and turned her head just slightly so that she was looking at him. “Sorry to disturb you,” she stated, and her tone sounded oddly genuine.

It was Sweet Pea’s turn to frown, as he was confused by her apparent sincerity. He stared as she glanced back and gave him a brief half-smile, and then watched her with a dark voraciousness as she turned back to the front of the classroom, picking up her book and reviewing a section filled with highlighted sentences and scribbled annotations. In an effort to understand what felt truly paradoxical to Sweet Pea––a Northsider genuinely apologizing for taking up a fraction of his free space––he tried to think of a gruff but moderately polite way to question her.

Instead, he lost his train of thought the moment she reached up and lazily pushed her hair out of her face and over her shoulder. It was a deep, warm blonde that reminded him of honey. He caught a whiff of her shampoo. Mint.

Sweet Pea was salivating. He bit down on the inside of his cheek, trying to control the hormones that so often warped his thinking.

Her skin was pale but pink toned, and a gentle blush tinged her cheeks beneath an uneven spray of freckles––he suspected that blush was permanent. She was wearing a little light brown skirt with a sort of wavy cut at the bottom and buttons up the front, and a cream-colored sweater tucked into it. The skirt was short, but Sweet Pea had a sense that this girl always observed the school’s “fingertip rule” for determining appropriate clothing length. Her sweater left much to the imagination, but that made it all the more enjoyable, since his imagination was running rampant. Her long fingernails were painted a deep blood red and her fingers were adorned with a few gold rings that glittered tantalizingly as she turned a page in the _Odyssey._

Caught up in a sudden and deliciously graphic image involving those ring-covered fingers woven into his hair, Sweet Pea nearly missed another detail––there were small, pale scars on her knuckles.

Before he could wonder what the scars were from she leaned down to retrieve another notebook from her bag, and as she shifted and her hair swung Sweet Pea noticed that the back of her sweater was cut in a deep “V” down to below where her bra-line should be, revealing perfectly smooth skin and oddly taut muscle, but no lingerie.

 _Damn,_ thought the Serpent, still biting the inside of his cheek and indulging in more dirty daydreams as he stared. Had he been paying any attention, he would have noticed a familiar girl on the other side of the room jerk her head in his direction, tipping off his desk-mate.

She turned a bit suddenly this time and Sweet Pea jumped as he watched her hair swing. “Did I do something wrong?”

“Uh.” He froze, having already forgotten his previous rudeness to this girl. “What?”

“Did I do something to piss you off? Sort of seems like you’re mad at me.” Her previous sincerity seemed strained as she locked eyes with him again.

Sweet Pea bit his cheek so hard that he drew blood. Her eyes were the pale blue of clean pool water and her eyelashes were like little feather dusters, brushing her cheeks each time she blinked. _Idiot,_ he thought, _say something!_

“Besides the fact that you’re a Northsider? Nope. No other reason.” _Idiot!_

The girl’s frown deepened a bit, but her eyes looked sad rather than angry. “Are you a Southside transfer?” Automatically, Sweet Pea did the one thing he’d intended not to and tugged down the collar of his turtleneck, revealing the tattoo on the left side of his throat. “Ah,” she said, relaxing noticeably in her seat again. “A Serpent. Did Weatherbee make you wear that turtleneck? That polo?”

Sweet Pea was surprised by her response, but he released his collar and nodded darkly, eyes unwavering from hers.

“Well, I never thought that those god-awful polos could look good on anyone, but you’ve proven me wrong. Sorry you’re dealing with that, though. This school would benefit from a bit more leather.” She smiled and broke their eye contact as she opened her notebook to a blank page and wrote the date at the top.

It took a few beats for her words to reach him, and even longer for Sweet Pea to realize that there was a compliment tucked within. To this girl, he looked good in his dumbass polo. He couldn’t believe his luck. Unfortunately, however, Sweet Pea was not used to receiving compliments, didn’t know how to respond, and actively chose to be belligerent rather than kind to a girl who had the misfortune of being friendly. “I don’t want your pity, Northsider,” he spat, regretting it immediately. In an effort to emotionally distance himself from the growing discomfort this girl was causing him, he leaned all the way back in the small plastic chair and extended his legs, kicking the chair in front of him in the process. The boy sitting in it turned and gave Sweet Pea a dirty look before turning back.

“I’m sorry you mistook my sympathy for pity,” the girl replied in an even tone, glancing back at him again. “Clearly you don’t need either. I’ll leave you alone.”

And so she did.

_Good job, idiot._

The English teacher strode into the room, ending the chattering of Sweet Pea’s classmates as he bid them good morning and started down his attendance sheet. Thankfully, at this school the teachers could recognize their students by appearance alone and didn’t have to take a proper roll call. However, as the girl beside him loudly cracked her neck and then reached up to massage the tendons running from her jaw to her shoulder, Sweet Pea’s mind filled with another dirty image and a desire to put a name to those thoughts.

He would _not_ ask.

“Alright, class. For today you were to read books one through six of the _Odyssey._ Hopefully everyone got through that material, because we’re going to have a little quiz to get discussion started… Now, don’t start grumbling. Homer’s voice and this translation can be a bit challenging to understand initially, so this first quiz will be more of a discussion prompt.” The teacher started walking around the room, passing out a single sheet of paper to each two-person table. “Working with your partner, please discuss and write responses to these questions. There are only six. I want you each to write the responses to three, so I can see two different sets of handwriting as proof that you’ve all contributed. Though I’ll be grading for completion, the quality of your answers may have an effect on your ability to obtain bonus points. So, take it seriously.”

Sweet Pea glowered as he listened to the instructions, feeling like a fool. Not only had he not done the reading, setting himself up for failure, but now he had to reveal his failure to this polite girl he’d already antagonized, and therein ruin her ability to get a good grade. He already felt guilty, and because Sweet Pea didn’t really know how to handle guilt either, he started to get angry. By the time the teacher had reached their table with his quiz sheets, Sweet Pea was fuming. He accepted the sheet with a falsely steady hand and blindly smacked it down flat on the table between himself and the girl.

“Alright, get started. This shouldn’t take more than twenty minutes,” the teacher announced with a jovial smile. Students all across the room started chattering again immediately, including Fangs and Toni with their entertainers-turned-partners.

Silence settled on Sweet Pea’s table for about half a minute before the girl finally sighed and spoke up. “Do you want to write first, or shall I?” Sweet Pea turned to look at her with as much contempt as he could muster. He met her eyes yet again, dark boring into light, and was surprised to see her smiling slightly. She stared back expectantly until she finally accepted his silence and continued. “Okay then. Let’s just start from the beginning. What’s your name?” She wrote something in at the top of the paper and then waited patiently for him to respond.

“Sweet Pea,” he barked.

Her pen stopped before it started and she looked up at him again. “Your name is Sweet Pea?” She was grinning. It was a charming expression on her and very clearly different from the distant smile she’d shared before. This grin touched her eyes and they sparkled, furthering their resemblance to a pool touched by sunlight.

His stomach flipped but his anger got in the way. “Something wrong with that?”

“Not at all. Sweet peas are lovely plants. Nice flowers. It’s a good name.” She wrote it at the top beside her own, though he could tell she had more to say. “Alright. So, the first question is––” She stopped short as Sweet Pea leaned in too close next to her, peering over her shoulder to try to read her name and taking an unintentional sniff of her hair. He thought he’d been subtle, and had genuinely hoped she wouldn’t notice his lurking. “Uh, sorry, I guess I could’ve put the sheet between us.”

“Talia,” he murmured, realizing painfully too late that he’d spoken her name out loud. He slid back in his chair and away from her even as he realized that he could have just waited for his turn to (not) write before learning her name. _Idiot! Why are you acting so thirsty? Level head!_

“Could’ve just asked, but yeah, that’s me… So, the first question is: ‘Throughout the _Odyssey_ , the reader’s attention is brought to the important motif of storytelling as a method of providing cultural context. Discuss and consider the relevance of storytelling in the first six books. What do we learn about the poet, the setting, and the interactions of the characters throughout history?’”

Her name was Talia Walker. His mind was buzzing as all of those dirty images zoomed through again, enhanced in clarity simply by the inclusion of a moniker. She looked up from the paper and tapped the back end of her pen against her lips in contemplation. _Holy hell_ , thought Sweet Pea, staring darkly at her mouth in wonder.

“What do you think?”

Snapped back to reality, Sweet Pea scrambled for any sort of answer. He hadn’t even been listening to the question. He didn’t know anything about the _Odyssey_. He was still angry but now he couldn’t tell if that was justified anger or if he was just horny. “I think… That I didn’t do the reading.” The words came out calmly and in a half-whisper, in complete contrast to the loud and erratic thoughts he was squelching. Why had he told the truth?

Talia frowned, tilting her head a bit and fully meeting his gaze once more. “Why not?”

“Because I don’t give a shit about… I don’t have the book.”

She was quiet for a second and her expression was curious. Which part of his statement would she believe? She looked at the table space in front of him, which was notably lacking a book. Sweet Pea rolled his eyes, prepared for the Northsider to see the worst. “Alright. Here’s the deal. I can’t imagine being forced to transfer schools mid-semester. I don’t think it’s fair for the school to supply you with fancy uniforms but not supply you with books, as it appears they did. If they really wanted your transition to Riverdale to be smooth, they would have assisted with your education, not your appearance. So, today, I’ll just do this quiz for both of us and we’ll pretend to talk it all over. Okay?”

Her words spilled out like water from a tap, and it again took him a moment to absorb it.

“What about the three that are supposed to be in my handwriting?” Sweet Pea questioned, leaning into her space with an intent to intimidate. It was a test to see if she was genuine or just afraid of him.

“I’ll just dictate the answer and you can write it out.” She didn’t shy away. Not afraid. Genuine.

Kindness on her part felt like a betrayal of everything Sweet Pea had come to believe. Northsiders didn’t _help_ Southsiders, especially not Serpents. In fact, the students of the North Side seemed intent on actively spiting the transfers. This girl’s behavior made no sense, and he certainly hadn’t done anything to earn her altruism. “Why would you do that?” Sweet Pea pressed, suspicious.

Talia’s frown intensified, causing her bottom lip to pout in a far too captivating manner, but she looked away from him and started writing out an answer to the first question. “These are unfair circumstances. Everyone deserves a chance to succeed. I’m just trying to balance the scales, I guess.” She finished answering the first question and then met his eyes again.

He was not convinced. He tried to stare her down, to force her to honesty. She stared back and one of her eyebrows quirked up. Sweet Pea’s surprise was shifting back to anger steadily as she defied him the truth.

“Look, I’m not sure why you can’t just accept my attempt to get you a decent grade, but––”

“All good things come at a cost,” he snarled. His heart was pounding as he thought about all of the favors he’d been under the impression he was receiving in the past. Favors that had changed his life for the better, but which had ultimately lead to greater strife. Sweet Pea didn’t remember picking up his pencil until it snapped in his fist with a loud crack. The girl beside him didn’t even flinch.

Instead, she paused, sighed, and rubbed her temple before looking back at him. Their eyes locked again for what felt like the hundredth time in the last five minutes. Suddenly though, Sweet Pea felt wrong, like eyes as dark as his that had seen so much shit shouldn’t even be allowed to attend school with hers, as pure as they were. This sense of internalized oppression was new to Sweet Pea and he hated himself for feeling it and her for existing. He looked up at the chalkboard, breaking away from her and embracing his shift back to full-on anger.

“I don’t want anything from you.”

Her unexpected words cut through his hate far too easily. Though her point was made, Sweet Pea realized that he wished she did want something. He wanted to feel like he had something of value for this creature, but he did not, and she’d made that very clear.

“Fine,” he huffed. “What’s the next question?”

From then on out she would read the questions aloud, say what she thought, ask him his opinion, he’d mutter some shit like “makes sense to me” or “yeah, exactly,” and she’d write down her answer. When it was his turn to write, he read the questions aloud, asked her what she thought, and scrambled to write her response word for word with his broken pencil, now too small for his hand. Finally, they finished the quiz with only a minute to spare. That minute passed in silence. The quizzes were collected and the real class began.

Trying to care or even listen to a discussion about a book that you haven’t read is always a challenge, but Sweet Pea was doing his best to stay engaged. He scribbled a few words down here and there, but he was certain that he misspelled every character’s name. He didn’t understand the literary terms that his teacher and classmates threw around. He couldn’t fathom how Talia Walker, the confusing girl beside him, could doodle intricate designs in the margins of her neat and comprehensive notes _while_ participating in the class’s conversation and taking said notes, but she did.

Finally, the bell rang loudly and class ended. Sweet Pea breathed out in relief and frustration and flexed his fingers. They were more cramped from his hurried writing in the last half hour than they ever had been from brandishing a knife.

He thought he was finally free of that nightmare of a class until he realized that his desk-mate was no longer sitting but standing beside him, waiting for him to acknowledge her. Sweet Pea looked up slowly, enjoying the view of her legs, short skirt, and curves on his way to meet her eyes yet again.

“What?” he growled. He knew his growl sounded furious, but it was based on a different emotion internally. She raised her eyebrow again and held out her notebook and copy of the _Odyssey_.

“At the risk of pissing you off, let me just restate that I don’t want anything from you. However, I already finished the book and thought you might want to just borrow my copy. I also thought that you could borrow my notes and make copies of the pages that you may want. There’s a test coming up that covers material you weren’t here to learn, and that I suspect no one will take the time to teach you. So… it might help.” She paused, noticing Fangs and Toni lingering by the door, watching. “You can make copies for your friends too, if they want them.”

Sweet Pea’s mouth fell open for a second while he searched for a response. He didn’t find one and snapped his jaw shut in a last ditch effort to not look like a dying goldfish.

“I want my notes back in class tomorrow, please, but you can borrow the book until you finish it.”

He opened his mouth again, settling on a cocky reply, but she flashed him that sad smile, turned around, and walked out of the classroom. Sweet Pea watched every movement of her body as she left, and his heart was beating fast enough to keep time with the clicking of her retreating boots.

He got up quickly and made his way over to where his friends waited, both giving him smiles that conveyed radically different emotions.

“Dude, what just happened?” Fangs chuckled, punching Sweet Pea in the arm. “Did that little Northside know-it-all just give you her phone number?”

“Nah, man. Just her notes. And her book.”

“What?!” Toni screeched, leaning back and looking at her friend like he was a new man. “You just made a friend?”

“Pfft, no. Not at all. Crazy chick just made a big deal out of being helpful. Was probably just her charity act of the week.” As he told the half-lie, Sweet Pea convinced himself of its truth. He didn’t like the way the Northsider had made him feel––confused, distracted, almost equal while also significantly inferior. He didn’t handle that well. So he decided to return to the version of himself that he was displaying now, to his real friends. A cocky Southside Serpent, with an axe to grind and no fucks to give. “Might as well take advantage though, right?”

Both of his friends ignored him, as Toni pulled the girl’s notebook from his hand. She flipped it open and skimmed through a page or two before simply saying, “Damn.” Fangs leaned over her shoulder to look at the notes too. “Sweet Pea, I want a copy of these notes. These read like a textbook.”

“Yeah, same,” Fangs concurred, reaching over to flip through a few pages himself. “I didn’t know what the fuck they were talking about today and Keller wasn’t nearly as useful as he…”

He trailed off abruptly, mid page turn. Slowly, the two shorter Serpents looked up, both smiling. Toni’s smile was genuine. Fangs’ smile was devious. Never a good combo. “What?” Sweet Pea snapped, tucking his newly acquired copy of the _Odyssey_ into his bag before crossing his arms.

“Bro…” Fangs spun the notebook around and gestured towards a drawing in the bottom right quarter. It was a very detailed rendition of the Southside Serpent’s logo. It matched the tattoo on Sweet Pea’s neck perfectly.

Beneath it, written in neat all-caps, was a simple note: “Welcome to Riverdale.”

•••

Throughout the rest of that Thursday and the following early Friday morning, Sweet Pea thought far too much about how to handle Talia Walker and her willingness to share her notes. He had of course, made multiple copies of every page in the notebook during lunch, but he’d also been tempted more than once to cut out her illustration of his tattoo and keep the original for himself.

He didn’t know what it meant in the first place, let alone how he felt about it. There was no real indication that she’d been interested in him, as Fangs now insisted. Sweet Pea had given himself the impression that she was merely tolerating him in an effort to prove something––that not all Northsiders were judgemental assholes, perhaps––and that his involvement in the interaction meant nothing. But even he couldn’t deny that her redrawing his tattoo and leaving a note had to mean something, beyond her willingness to help him in English class.

_“I don’t want anything from you.”_

She’d been telling the truth, Sweet Pea was certain. He had nothing to offer anyway, unless she wanted a few wild nights of entertainment and ruin.

“She was obviously into you, Pea,” Fangs said, contradicting Sweet Pea’s thoughts as they leaned on their lockers. “She said that you looked good in a _polo_.” He nudged his friend playfully. “Seemed pretty hot, too. You should go for it.”

Sweet Pea rolled his eyes, entirely doubting Fangs’ conclusions but not wanting to explain why. “Like I’d do anything with some Northside princess. I’d probably break her. Besides, Fogarty, I don’t have time for that shit.”

“Oh yeah? What are you doing that’s got you so busy you can’t mess around?”

Snickering, Sweet Pea held up her notebook. “Homework.”

Both boys cracked up at the concept, even though it was slightly true. Sweet Pea had left the Wyrm early last night and pulled a secret all-nighter to catch up on the assigned reading (the first half of Homer’s epic poem at that point), but he wanted to keep hating all of the students at Riverdale High simply for their privilege and the way they exerted it.

The conversation ended there, but no conclusion was really reached. Somehow, Sweet Pea had grown angrier and he was getting lost in hate again. Just the fact that Talia could lend a book to a boy she’d just met with no real guarantee she’d get it back the next day was an exertion of that North Side privilege. The fact that she had clearly pitied Sweet Pea (even if she wanted to call it sympathy) negated the kindness of her actions. She didn’t like him. She didn’t want to hook up. She probably just had some pathetic savior complex, or felt guilty for the hand that life had dealt him.

And she should.

At that moment, she walked out of a nearby classroom with Jughead’s and Archie’s girlfriends, laughing. Sweet Pea felt his insides burn as she passed, and he indulged in more thoughts of what it’d be like to experience her in full. Her locker was across the hall and up a few bays from his, but he could see just about every detail of her clearly as she collected her things for her first Friday class.

“That’s her, right?” said Fangs, jerking his chin at her form as she dug through her locker in pursuit of a book. Sweet Pea nodded. “Dude, okay. I get that you hate these kids, but you should not fight opportunity when it tries to break down your damn door. If she wants to jump your bones and do your homework, I say you fucking let her.”

Sweet Pea grinned, unwilling to admit that the situation was halfway inverted from Fangs’ views. “Nah. Not my type anyway.” His friend scoffed immediately and went on a rant about taking advantage of all of the perks of Riverdale High, but Sweet Pea stopped listening as soon as a boy in a letterman’s jacket popped up behind Talia and covered her eyes. She turned quickly, smacking his hands away with a squeak, and then playfully shoved the boy in the chest. The two students talked for a minute until the first bell rang. The boy leaned forward, pecked Talia on the cheek, and swaggered away, passing the two lurking Serpents. Sweet Pea knew his face. He was on the football team. They’d met before, on a rainy night at Archie’s house.

A sudden, intense red blurred his vision, and Sweet Pea turned to face his locker in an effort to avoid tackling the Bulldog. Fangs stopped talking immediately, noticing the abrupt change in his friend’s demeanor but hopefully missing the cause. “Y’know what, Fogarty? Fuck it. Do you have a pen?” Fangs smiled and pulled a pen from his pocket. Its ink was red, matching Sweet Pea’s mood.

He flipped open Talia’s notebook to the page that bore the likeness of his tattoo. Beneath her welcome note, he etched in his phone number in large, dark numbers.

Sweet Pea found himself longing for his first class to be over already so he could get to English even faster.

•••

Somehow, Sweet Pea made it through Algebra class fairly successfully and without imploding, having mastered the quadratic formula. He even got called to the board to solve an equation. Though he was too tall and had to lean down to write, his math was miraculously correct.

He reconnected with Fangs and Toni in the lounge after class and they chatted again, as usual. Sweet Pea forked out the quarters to get himself a snack from the vending machine since Toni was no longer sharing and he needed a distraction from the impending reunion. Fangs complained about history class, where they’d discussed the Prohibition Era, and when he was done he told Toni about Sweet Pea’s addition to the Northsider’s notebook.

Toni beamed up at her friend knowingly before clapping him on the shoulder and asserting, “a Serpent never shows cowardice.” Sweet Pea cringed, now feeling a whole lot of pressure to do something but not knowing what.

The trio walked to English shoulder to shoulder, forcing Riverdale students to part for them with dirty looks. Went they arrived at their classroom, Toni nodded at them and split, joining Cheryl again. Her trolling seemed to be going well. Sweet Pea headed to the back table once more and slid into his seat, surprised when he realized that Fangs had followed him. He’d expected his friend to sit with the sheriff’s son again, leaving an open seat for Talia. Sweet Pea’s anger immediately started to surge at the inconvenience and he glowered at Fangs and at Kevin Keller, despite their obliviousness.

Ultimately, it didn’t matter. Talia came right up to their table, her expression warm and bright in stark contrast with her outfit. That Friday, she was wearing a long-sleeved black dress that could only be called modest when referring to the neckline, which still scooped wide to reveal the entirety of her collarbone. It hugged her curves like a second skin and it was just long enough to dodge detention. Clearly, the dress was a statement, its point driven home by the burgundy thigh-high boots beneath. Her hair was curled and held back by a dark velvet headband that matched the boots.

Sweet Pea started salivating again immediately as he watched her approach. “God damn,” Fangs hissed, earning a kick under the table. As Talia got closer, Sweet Pea leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms and tilting his head as rakishly as he could, and Fangs leaned forward, elbows pressed to the table with his head in his hands.

“Hey, Sweet Pea,” she started, still smiling cheerfully. He opened his mouth to greet her, his intended words quite snarky.

“Hey, sweetheart,” cut in Fangs, matching her inflection perfectly. She stopped up short, frowned for a second, and then cracked up. While she was briefly distracted by her own laugh, which sounded like a symphony to Sweet Pea, he slammed his foot down onto Fangs’ beneath their desk. His friend grunted but kept smiling.

Still chuckling, Talia replied. “Uh, hi. Are you a friend of his?” She gestured to Sweet Pea and held out her hand for a shake. Fangs took it and shook vigorously. Sweet Pea scowled, suddenly furious that he’d never received such an opportunity to touch her.

Meanwhile, his friend was beaming. “Yes, ma’am. You can call me Fangs. Who might you be?”

“Fangs and Sweet Pea. What an interesting pair of names! I’m Talia.”

“Ah, so _you’re_ Talia. These are your notes, then?” He held up a photocopied packet. She nodded, her grin touching her eyes and making them glitter again. “Thank you so much for sharing them with my boy, here. They’re a life saver.”

Sweet Pea’s frustration was growing by the minute. His awareness of the situation was getting blurry, and he was starting to miss details. Important details, perhaps, like Talia’s eyes following his.

“I especially liked your drawings,” Fangs added in a very strange and prodding tone.

Talia shifted her weight so that one of her hips jutted out, adding to the curvature of her body. Sweet Pea was still scowling, but he couldn’t help but trace and retrace her form with his eyes. “I’m glad that the notes were helpful and that my doodles weren’t… distracting. Mind if I take my actual notebook back, though, Sweet Pea? If you want, you can borrow it after school today to make a copy, but I need it to study over the weekend.”

She’d said his name three times and he hadn’t even spoken yet. Every time she’d said it, Sweet Pea fell further into his haze, forgetting everything decent that he’d planned to say, and Fangs had already covered all of the nice bases with his thank yous and appreciation. It took him a second, but finally Sweet Pea leaned forward onto the table, leering, and said, “Sorry, princess. No time to play after school today. I’ve got detention.”

Her head tilted and her eyebrow quirked simultaneously. She didn’t ask him why he had detention, so perhaps she’d heard about the graffiti farce earlier in the week. “Okay, then. Did you do the reading?”

“Mmhmm.” He bit his lip in a way that he hoped appeared seductively cheeky.

“What’d you think?”

_Girls liked rude boys, right?_

“I thought that your answers on the quiz the other day were a little lame, in retrospect.” He held out her notebook, snickering. She looked neither amused nor seduced––her eyebrows returned to the same level, no longer curious, and she sighed. Sweet Pea’s chest constricted.

With that same sad smile from their previous class, Talia reached out and grabbed the notebook. Sweet Pea got caught up in a combination of his sudden anxiety and the appealing mental image of her ring covered fingers touching very specific parts of his body and he clutched the notebook a bit longer and tighter than intended. Finally, she tugged it away and gently remarked, “My answers might’ve been better if I’d had any help, but I’m sorry to disappoint. Won’t happen again.” She held his gaze for a moment and he again had the sense that he was polluting her pure blue pools with his muddy ones. Her mouth twitched into a jovial smile again and then she quickly muttered, “Nice to meet you, Fangs,” before retreating to the last empty seat in the classroom beside the red-headed Muggs girl.

A moment passed and everything sunk in. Sweet Pea groaned in frustration and settled back in his seat again, kicking the chair in front of him once more and scowling at the boy in the seat when he turned.

_You are such a damn idiot._

“Pea, man, what the hell?” Fangs muttered quietly, turning to face his friend.

“I could say the same thing!” Sweet Pea snarled, deciding immediately to just be mad. It’d help. “What was all that sweet talk about?”

“You said she wasn’t your type!”

“You watched me write my damn phone number in her notebook!”

“Yeah, okay, sure. But even if you were pissed at me for flirting, being shitty to her sure didn’t help your cause!” Fangs leaned back next to Sweet Pea and they both stared at the chalkboard.

Sweet Pea sighed. “I wasn’t trying to be shitty. Girls like assholes.” Fangs stifled a full-on abrupt burst of laughter at that point and Sweet Pea’s scowl darkened even further.

“Not girls like that, man. Maybe chicks on the South Side, maybe some of the Serpent girls… those are the kinds of women who like asshole men, and even then, you can’t assume. Sweet little North Side girls who share their notes and books with strangers are looking for good guys. Nice guys.”

Frowning, Sweet Pea realized that his friend was right. Girls he’d hooked up with before hadn’t really cared about his personality at all. Then, he had another thought. “She sure doesn’t look like a sweet little Northsider in that dress, though.”

Fangs gave him a wide-eyed nod. “Right? I watched her walk up and thought, ‘she’s just missing the leather jacket.’” Both boys nodded slowly, agreeing. She would look amazing in a Serpent’s skin.

Class finally began and their teacher started passing out papers from a small stack after doing an attendance check. “Alright class, I was generally pretty impressed by the quality of your responses yesterday. Good work. Two points were awarded for each completed question, so your score is out of twelve. Six extra points were available––one for each question. Highest possible score, therefore, would be an eighteen out of twelve. Please make sure you and your partner from the other day get a chance to look at your score and any notes I left… And let’s get started on our discussion of books seven through twelve.”

Sweet Pea watched the back of Talia’s head like a hawk as she accepted their quiz from the other day. He couldn’t see their score from where he sat. It didn’t really matter, but he had just foolishly trash-talked her work instead of thanking her for doing it. A twisted part of him wanted to be proven right by a terrible score, but her body language didn’t divulge a thing and she never turned to look back at him.

Discussion flowed as always but because he’d actually done the reading, Sweet Pea could keep up. He even correctly answered a question regarding Odysseus’ relationship with Circe, earning quite a few surprised looks from his friends and classmates. Talia still faced forward. Class droned on until the bell finally rang.

Sweet Pea and Fangs were the last ones to get up and leave, meeting Toni by the door. They all acknowledged each other sleepily again, and they all professed a common wish for it to be lunch time already. Just one more class until they could eat and rest. They spread out into their shoulder to shoulder line again and started off for their next classes. However, they hadn’t even made it the distance of two locker bays when Talia appeared in front of Sweet Pea, wearing an oddly blank expression. Her arm swung up faster than he could track and she shoved him in the chest. If she’d been holding a knife like most people who popped up in front of him like that, he would be bleeding. He tried to catch her hand but it was already gone––all he caught was paper. As he glanced down to see what she’d left him, Talia vanished, pushing past his now-defensive posse and floating away on the sea of students.

It was their quiz. She’d gotten an eighteen out of twelve––a perfect score. At the bottom of the sheet there was a short note from their teacher that read, simply, “Mr. Sweet Pea and Ms. Walker, I’m so glad to have two students of your caliber in my class. Thank you for your insightful responses. Good work.”

Sweet Pea rolled his eyes and groaned. Fangs snatched the paper from him and burst out laughing. “Mr. Sweet Pea!?”


End file.
